


Red and Green, Green and Red

by delta6453



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas, Fukuroudani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 00:27:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta6453/pseuds/delta6453
Summary: Is Christmas magic a thing?Maybe.Is Christmas magic a thing when Bokuto's in charge of decorating and festivities?Definitely not.





	Red and Green, Green and Red

When Akaashi walked into the gym changeroom, still blowing warm air into his cupped hands and trying in vain to keep his teeth from chattering, he wasn’t at all surprised by what he saw. Large boxes spread across the benches and floor, overflowing with knots of tinsel, sprigs of fir and pine. The almost familiar odor of musk and cedar sap and sweet cinnamon, because someone had already lit up one of those burgundy candles that were supposed to smell like anything and everything. Half of the team spread over the boxes, some already draped in red and green, enamored by the decorations which, every year, without fail, came out of some infernal closet. 

And over everything, the clamor and sudden confounded heat, floated a scratchy tune that some team members hummed along to, although one wasn’t humming as much as bellowing out the lyrics. 

“…. it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…” 

Akaashi sighed, slipping around a stack of Santa hats and stepping carefully over a red glass bauble that would be a pain in the ass to clean up when it inevitably broke. He pulled on his uniform, ignoring the complaints from the rest. He looked back towards them sharply. They really didn’t seem in any mood to practice volleyball. 

“…everywhere you go…”

That was fine. He could practice on his own, impress the others in the New Year when they were hopped up on eggnog and candy canes and had forgotten how to even spike. He would face neither the wrath of the coach, nor that of the team managers. Better yet, he’d be in top notch condition. He stepped back around the clothes and boxes and elf cosplayers and put his hand on the doorknob. 

“…there's a tree in the Grand Hotel, one in the park as well…”

He hesitated, frowning. It wasn’t that he hated Christmas. He’d been accused of that before. He just didn’t understand the hype, the music, the lavish decorations. And he supposed it was slightly odd, because everyone who knew Fukurodani Academy knew they went all out for Christmas. Because, apparently, everyone at Fukurodani besides him absolutely adored the holiday. Which honestly didn’t make any sense, because they were by all means supposed to be owls, not turtledoves. 

“…Akaashi, where are you go!?” 

Akaashi was no connoisseur of Christmas music, but there was no way that was the next line. And perhaps more irritating, it made no sense at all. He turned around and looked at Bokuto, grinning and wagging his eyebrows as if he’d made the funniest joke of the century. 

“What do you mean, Bokuto-san?” 

He jumped around, jingling as he did because God knew he had put on at least twenty of those elf belts. “Where are you go…ing! It’s like the lyric, but it’s not! Isn’t that cool?!” 

It really wasn’t. Not cool, not clever, barely even rhymed, barely even a pun. Akaashi wasn’t sure what he’d even been trying to do, if he was being honest. He had tried though, and, for Bokuto, that was certainly worth something. 

“Practice. Aren’t we practicing we today?” 

“Aghaashi!” Bokuto pointed wildly towards the calendar hanging on the wall. It was one of those where a different half nude gravure model was leaning suggestively on a sports car each month. He might have wondered whose taste was poor enough to buy that kind of thing, but it’d obviously been all Konoha’s idea. “Didn’t ya look at the calendar?!” 

“Oh, yes. December’s girl is to your taste, right?” Some team members snickered, and Bokuto’s eyebrows crinkled in indignation. 

“Not that! It’s December 18th! A week! Chris-ta-mas!!” 

“Really? I mustn’t have noticed.” Bokuto’s face was turning, in his own words, a lovely candy cane red. Give him a break, called Komi exasperatedly, although Akaashi wasn’t sure who he was talking to. If he goes into Dejected Mode, it’s your fault Akaashi-kun, added Konoha and Akaashi was sure who he was talking to. 

“Why are you hurting me like this, Akaashi? What, you don’t like Christmas or something!?”

He leaned back against the door, cold metal still gripped in his hand. There was the knock at the door, the coach’s attempt at a threatening tone, a couple of members’ panic to put away the boxes and blow out that forsaken candle. Akaashi licked at his lips, questioning what his next move should be. It was always a question, a thin line between appeasing and provoking. Regardless how well he knew Bokuto, it was sometimes hard to predict which side his statements might fall on. 

“I don’t mind it. I just don’t get it.” 

Akaashi opened the door, leaving the room before the cinnamon smoke could climb into his skull and give him pounding headaches. “Come on Bokuto-san,” he called behind him, “the coach is looking rather unimpressed.” 

The door swung closed, and the rest held their breaths in anticipation. Bokuto was very much an enigma at times like this, teetering on the cusp of total and utter dejection. But, he only laughed heartily, suddenly alert and having forgotten all about his woes. “Is that a challenge I hear, Akaashi?!” 

No response. He pouted, but continued nevertheless, turning around with a rattle and crossed arms. “You guys are on my side from here on out! And by my, uh, captainly charm, we’ll damn well make this year the best Christmas ever!” 

Komi and Konoha groaned, some first years perked up, questioning their elders as to what he meant. An extravaganza, mumbled one of the third years, a terrible and harrowing extravaganza. 

Luckily for Bokuto, or unluckily for Akaashi, the coach’s yells had been enough to drown out the challenge proposal. Akaashi never even knew what was coming his way, lamented Konoha later. 

 

The decorations did not impress Akaashi. At all. Rather, they worried him. The tinsel, red and silver and intricately braided, had been strewn across the walls. A Christmas tree, adorned with baubles of virtually every color, stood in the corner of the court by the ball cart. Someone had even taken the pains to weave a long strand of lights through the rafters, and those damn candles were burning somewhere nearby, because the air smelt of a sickening mix of peppermint and burning wood. 

Others shuffled in, gasping in awe at the state of the gym. Akaashi could only wish he felt that way too. 

“So, so, so, what you think?” Bokuto, wearing reindeer antlers and an oversized ugly, perhaps super ugly, Christmas sweater, nodded confidently. “Really gets you in the Christmas spirit, huh?” 

He fiddled with his fingers. “It makes me nervous, Bokuto-san.” He could just envision the puddles of glass and pine needles and broken light bulbs they would have to wade through when all this inevitably came crashing down. If they survived the fire that came first. 

“No, no, it’s awesome! Totally holiday ready!” 

He glanced around uncertainly. “Something’s missing though.” Someone suggested the gym needed more tinsel, but Bokuto shook his head resolutely. No, there was definitely enough of that. Akaashi was relieved that he was being at least slightly reasonable. 

He snapped his fingers. “I know! The soundtrack!” He ran out to the net, clearing his throat and standing straight. He inhaled deeply, as if he were preparing to preform for the Queen of England. 

“Bokuto-san, please don- ”

“Chestnuuuuts roasting on an open fireee” his eyelids were fluttering and he dropped to a single knee, “Jaaack Frost nipping at your…” He opened an eye to gaze over his largely unamused audience. 

“Nose,” yawned Konoha. 

“Nose!” He froze again. “Uhh, la la laaaa, la la laaaa, and uh, Christmas to youuuu!” He fell back to the floor, a pile of green and red and melodrama. Some people clapped politely. For whatever reason, Yukie whooped and Kaori quickly followed suit. Bokuto took a deep bow, oblivious to the reindeer horns slipping to the floor with a jingle. 

“So, Christmas fun yet, Akaashi?” Bokuto ran back to his side, eyes luminous and unblinking. Akaashi thought, but in no universe could he have ever considered that performance ‘fun.’ 

“Can we practice volleyball yet?” 

Bokuto seemed briefly taken aback, before wavering and letting out a loud guffaw, wrapping a thick arm around his neck. “Tentatively, my boy.” He must have gotten that one from Kuroo. How it tickled Akaashi pink that Bokuto spent enough time talking to the damned feline that his speech patterns were rubbing off on him. He ruffled his hair with his other hand, though he’d never had any understanding of the word ‘tenderness,’ so ‘ruffled’ wasn’t very much the word for it. “There’s still time until Christmas, don’t you worry!” 

Although he pranced off before Akaashi could ask what he meant and, actually, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. That kind of statement very rarely meant anything good. 

 

Each practice was something else, and, more often than not, more outlandish than the previous day. It was only after the cookie baking class that Akaashi really thought he ought to ask Bokuto what exactly this all was. Normally, he would have asked earlier, but Bokuto had looked so enchanted by the entire ordeal he had resolved to simply ride it out. But, seriously, an entire practice spent baking malformed clumps of dough was where he drew the line.

“Baby, it’s cold outside,” snickered Bokuto through chattering teeth. Akaashi agreed with only the sentiment. 

They trudged through the snow, which had come down dense and heavy, and now crackled with each footstep. ‘It’s a Christmas miracle,’ Bokuto had sighed, nose pressed against passing window panes as the storm had begun and they had plodded their way up to the Home Ec. classroom. It certainly was, it would be a White Christmas, complete with frosted windows and subtle piano melodies and soft lights twinkling in each carefully arranged wreath. 

Or would be, if he appreciated those kinds of things. “How much more of this is left?” 

“The festivities? Until Christmas, of course!” Great. It was still the 23rd. 

“And what sort of thing do you have planned, exactly?” Akaashi clarified before Bokuto could open his mouth to say something about the ever so important element of surprise. “Just a hint.” 

He put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “A get-together. But that’s it, no more questions!” 

Akaashi sighed, hoping it would be as mundane as it sounded. “What’s the point of all this, Bokuto-san?” 

Then he stopped dead in his tracks, a look of bewilderment plain on his face. “Of course, I want you to like Christmas!” 

Akaashi continued to walk, ignoring the pattering at his heels. “Well, you make me sound like a Scrooge. I appreciate it, I just don’t particularly care for the theatrics.” 

“But that’s the charm of it! Everyone’s into it, all the Christmas stuff, ya know?” 

“Well, not me. What is there to like about superfluous and meaningless stuff like that?” 

Jumping in front of him, straight into a blot of light, Bokuto began to gesticulate violently, the way he did when he had so much to say but not the words with which to say it. His eyes flickered to life and he smiled widely. “How couldn’t you love the holly and the snow and the cookies and the trees and the fireplaces?” He stretched out his arms letting the drowsy snowflakes settle on his sleeves and hair. He reached out a bare finger, catching one as it fluttered down. Almost with childlike innocence, he moved his finger side to side as to inspect its edges and spikes. And then he found Akaashi’s eyes again, and chuckled through a puff of white smoke. “Look, isn’t it beautiful?” He shoved his finger into Akaashi’s face, but Akaashi only caught its shape vaguely before it melted back into nothingness. 

His eyes glittered as they floated towards the black sky. “It’s almost like… magic, isn’t it?” he whispered. 

And Akaashi thought he saw it, if only for a moment, in the flurry of silver and gold under pale lamplight, this magic that Bokuto was referring to. Because suddenly he was unable to look away, from his empty hand and his smile that only grew in the deafening silence. Certain that if Bokuto grabbed his hand and started to twirl him around, he would let himself be pulled into it, not worrying where his feet did and didn’t land. Would shuffle along until his boots were soaked and his lips blue were with cold and the sky was pink with dawn. And if he began to sing one of those cheesy Christmas songs he loved so much, he’d hum along as if he’d never heard anything more beautiful in his life. 

“Akaashi?” Bokuto blinked, suddenly confused by his lack of response. Akaashi shook his head, and watched as the checkered marble faded back to shadowy patches of snow. Bokuto grinned again, dusting the snow off his hair. “You saw it, didn’t you!? The magic!”

Akaashi scrunched up his nose, turning and continuing to walk home. “I’m sure I didn’t.” He was glad for the cover of the darkness as Bokuto continued to jump around and scrutinize him, insisting he had, he for sure had, that was a look he knew! 

He’d later admit that what he saw probably was ‘magic.’ But it absolutely hadn’t been the magic Bokuto had been referring, nor that of Christmas. 

 

Akaashi dreaded this ‘get-together’ Bokuto was planning. Some people said that Bokuto had invited every high school volleyball team in Tokyo, while others insisted he’d even invited Miyagi volleyball teams. Regardless, everyone was running around getting things ready and when Akaashi asked anything, they pushed him away with a good-natured smile and a wink. “Party’s at five,” they’d repeat, and Akaashi already felt faint. At five o’clock, walking over to the gym, because what else could he do, he wondered what had ever happened to the coach. He decided, rather wistfully, that they had either drugged or killed him. 

Bokuto’d called it a get-together. It’d plainly been the understatement of the century. Akaashi could feel his head pounding in tune with whatever the hell was playing in the gym, and when the doors were flung open, the dizzying red and green lights were enough to make him nauseous. There was Bokuto, grinning goofily and dressed in another Santa getup. 

“Ah, there you are! Man of the hour!” He threw his head back in laughter, slapping Akaashi on the back for good measure. 

“Bokuto-san…” He looked warily behind Bokuto, at the suspicious mob of red, the person collapsed on the floor by the punch bowl, the person using the damned volleyball net as a tightrope. “How many people did you invite?”

“Oh, come on, don’t worry about crap like that!” he continued, dragging Akaashi into the inferno before he could escape. “It’s Christmas Eve, just have fun!” 

Easier said than done, especially when he’d been right about that crowd of red. He slipped away from Bokuto right before he could pull him into the pulsating crowd. Bokuto looked around in confusion, but gave up soon enough, shrugging and diving in himself. 

“Hey.” Akaashi sat down next to Kenma, who’d found a corner and beanbag chair and had rolled into a ball before he could be pulled into the mass of terrible dancers. He hummed in response, eyes still glued to the device in his hands. 

“Isn’t that Lev lying on the floor over there? Shouldn’t you get him?” 

“Yaku’ll do’t eventually,” he muttered. 

Akaashi tried very hard to keep his sighs supressed, especially when the bubblegum pop was replaced by Christmas trap remixes and someone in the mob hollered. He watched the squall of red and green closely, unsure what he was searching for. Bokuto had lied down on the floor, doing a poor rendition of the worm that Akaashi wanted to ignore at all costs. Other than that, there was… Oh, dear God. He snorted amusedly. 

“Kuroo-san sure dances like a dad at a wedding.” Kenma looked up for the first time in forever, following Akaashi’s gaze. He watched blankly, pulling his legs in closer to his chest. He scanned the crowd himself, before gazing back down at his game with a victorious smirk.

“At least he doesn’t look like he’s in the middle of a fucking earthquake.” Akaashi chose to not look in that direction, especially when Bokuto began yelping about a new dance move he’d coined ‘The Owl Slide.’ 

Unfortunately, things weren’t that simple. Not when Kuroo popped up, still shuffling from side to side, smile plastered on his face. “Oya? If it isn’t Akaashi? How are you?” 

He ignored the elf costume, which was just as tacky as Bokuto’s Santa one. “Fantastic. I never realized how much I liked Christmas trap remixes until just now.” 

Santa joined the elf, and yelled over the music too. “Oh yeah! Bro picked that, I didn’t even know they existed until today!” 

Really now? As if Akaashi didn’t have enough reasons to despise him already. Kuroo’s grin only widened. “Of course I did! Isn’t it sick?!” 

Then, as if he’d had the brightest idea ever, he slicked back his hair, and held out a hand to Kenma debonairly. “Care to dance?” he drawled. Akaashi glanced interestedly at Kenma, pondering whether he’d even look up from the console. When he eventually did, Akaashi was confident he’d never seen anyone look more revolted by anything before. “Care to say that again?”

Kuroo’s hand shrivelled in on itself. “N-never mind.” He retreated before Kenma could say anything more. Instead, he dragged Lev to the dancefloor and the two seemed amused, whirling each other around to, of all things, Christmas trap music. 

But the issue wasn’t Kuroo exactly. It was Bokuto, who had watched it all happen open mouthed, and was now staring from Akaashi to Kuroo. Not one to be outdone, he grabbed Akaashi’s hand and frowned. “A-aghaashi! Us too!” 

Before Akaashi could say anything, feign disgust or otherwise, he’d been pulled into the brunt of it all. “Dance, Akaashi!” he yelled, sneaking glances at Kuroo, deeper within the crowd. He was being pushed from all sides, and could sincerely say he wasn’t sure how anyone danced in this horde, much less enjoyed it. It was only when he looked up at Bokuto, whose eyebrows were knitted and face was alternating shades of red and green, that he noticed something was wrong. He had stopped, looking irresolutely at the younger boy. “What now?” he struggled over the thump of music. 

“I- I don’t know!” confessed Bokuto, having let go of Akaashi’s hand. “This isn’t what I wanted! You don’t like this, do you!?” 

Someone elbowed Akaashi in the side. Kuroo was nowhere to be seen anymore. “No, I guess I don’t.” Bokuto stopped talking, deep in thought, before jolting. 

“Oh, shit! How didn’t I think of this earlier?!” He jumped from one foot to the other. “Kuroo, take care of this place for me, kay!?” He didn’t even wait for a response before looking at Akaashi eagerly. “Come!” And then he grabbed Akaashi’s hand again, but this time they were weaving out of the growing crowd, out of the gym, into the hushed and frosty streets. The only two people out on Christmas Eve, faces dyed in muted amber with each lit window they passed. 

It was too little time to think, stop and grab a coat, even ask where the hell they were going before Akaashi was completely out of breath, barely being dragged behind Bokuto, whose pace and grip hadn’t faltered for a second. All at once, Bokuto was fumbling with his keys, and Akaashi squinted upwards at the familiar arrangement of lights. Of course. They had run all the way to Bokuto’s house.

“W-what, are you,-” 

“Akaashi, I figured it out!” He jammed the key into the lock, rattling the thing back and forth franticly. “How to make you love Christmas!” 

“See,” he called, throwing the door open, “my parents are at a party or something, so this is perfect!” He flipped on the lights, plugged in the Christmas tree, lit the fireplace. All in an instant. “Can’t ya see? Absolutely perfect!” 

Maybe it was, thought Akaashi, breath hitching in his throat. Just maybe he was. 

 

“Well, what are ya waiting for?! Sit down, sit down!” Bokuto gestured towards the couch, which was covered in sequined pillows. There sat Frosty the Snowman above the fireplace, Rudolph near the TV, a towering Santa Claus statue right at the foot of stairs. Somehow, it was even worse than at Fukurodani. Akaashi leaned back, closing his eyes, hoping the gaudiness and kitschy decorations would disappear when he reopened them. But he was only greeted with an enthusiastic Bokuto, holding a bottle opener in one hand and a full bottle of something in the other. 

Akaashi grimaced. Bokuto beamed, squeezing onto the couch next to him. 

“Where did you even get this from?” Akaashi held the flute glass to the light, watching the pale liquid fizz and pop. Bokuto finished pouring a second glass, and set the bottle down with a heavy clink. 

“The fridge. It’s just champagne, even the kids get on it on special occasions.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Special occasions?” 

“Of course. Cheers.” The two clinked glasses, raising them to their lips. Akaashi watched Bokuto down the glass confidently. He hesitantly took a sip of his own. Bitter. 

The fire crackled, and Akaashi took another sip, swallowing before the liquid could glaze his tongue over. “So? What now?” 

“Our own personal Christmas party!” He pulled out another pair of reindeer antlers, and insisted Akaashi put them on. By all accounts they looked ridiculous, but Bokuto seemed to love them. He waltzed over to the stereo and pressed play. Turned up the radio, down the lights. Akaashi watched skeptically. 

“Is this the Christmas I’m supposed to love? Old cliché songs and dumb costumes?” 

“Now, now, just let me work my magic!” Bokuto hummed as he refilled Akaashi’s glass. Akaashi only looked down at the glass in his hands, watching the bubbles rise and gurgle. 

 

Two Christmas movies later, both more terrible than he’d expected, Akaashi followed the clock’s hands tick past one another. “So,” called Bokuto, heading hanging off the couch, “see the Christmas magic yet?” 

“Can’t say I do.”

“Aghaashi!” he struggled to clamber off the couch. He pushed the table to the side, leaving half the room empty. “Making me bring out the big guns, huh?” He padded towards the stereo, and replaced the disk. “This is both my secret technique, and my crowning achievement! Marvel, young one!” Akaashi rolled his eyes. Enter once more Kuroo-isms. 

Trumpets led in and Bokuto trotted his way to the centre, clearing his throat. Akaashi could only imagine what kind of screeching the owl would produce. Instead, he stopped and gaped. 

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas,” he sang, his gaze steady and vivid, “let your heart be light…” his tone silky and saccharine. Akaashi only stared, wondering how someone so inept and immature, someone dressed in a Santa outfit and singing along to Michael Bublé, could capture his heart so, refuse to let it go. 

Bokuto, noticing this change in mood, let the singer overtake him as he strut over, holding out a hand. “Care to dance?” Akaashi struggled to pull his eyes away from his face, his dashing half smile. It would be easy to say no, chide him for being an idiot. But when Akaashi gazed about, he thought he could see it. Everything in the room sparkled, deep burgundies paired with golds, velveteen greens threaded with winding silvers. In the dim light, he thought he could see the magic. 

He placed his hand in Bokuto’s own, standing shakily as the other’s eyes widened and he looked Akaashi up and down in confusion. 

“Aren’t we gonna dance?” 

“Honestly, I never thought you’d – wait, Akaashi, are you OK?!” He blinked once, twice. “You’re not drunk or something, are ya?!” 

“Of course not,” giggled Akaashi, placing Bokuto’s hand around his waist. “I just wanted to dance.” 

“I mean, I guess…” Bokuto gazed down, considering the proposal. “No, yeah, we will! Here we go, Christmas magic overdrive!” He pulled the younger boy in closer, whose feet were already dragging and grip was weak around his neck. He stepped backwards carefully, onto the carpet and into the firelight. 

“Shit, I’m stepping on your feet,” Bokuto hissed after what must have been the fourth time. 

Akaashi traced the orange which licked at Bokuto’s cheeks, caught in his irises. “I don’t mind.” 

If this was the magic of Christmas, dancing clumsily around a firelit room, he’d let it drown him, let the tides wash over him until he was but a husk. He’d gladly let it devour him. 

Akaashi could smell a hint of pine as he laid his head on Bokuto’s shoulder. “You’re not singing anymore?” 

Bokuto only chuckled, sending vibrations through both their bodies. “Since when have you liked my singing?” Akaashi only shrugged, letting his hands fall and graze Bokuto’s back. Bokuto moved him gingerly, an arm always wrapped tight around his waist. He began to mumble words to ‘Winter Wonderland,’ swaying them both to the beat. He hummed along to the trumpets, spinning as they rose and fell in crescendos. Akaashi shut his eyes, letting the magic work its way over him and replace the countless twinkling light with a sea of stars.

And when Bokuto changed the lyric to “I sing a song, Akaashi follows along,” he didn’t even groan or complain. He just laughed, because he honestly thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. 

 

He woke up the next morning on Bokuto’s couch, swaddled in twenty blankets. The person in question was snoring away on the loveseat. He yawned, glancing up at the clock. 12 AM, Christmas Day. He hoped Bokuto’d had the sense to call his parents and tell them where he’d apparently spent the entire day and night. 

“Bokuto-san, wake up, it’s already noon.” Bokuto rubbed at his eyes, a drowsy smile appearing. 

“Well, if it ain’t Sleeping Beauty!” Akaashi folded the blankets, although he had no idea when they’d been placed there, and glared. 

“I woke you up, actually.” The sunlight filtered in through the blinds and Bokuto only glowed brighter. 

“I’m talking about last night, though. Trust me, one moment were dancing, and then you were asleep in my arms!” He scratched at his head. “I didn’t even realize you were that tired, I could have gone all night!” 

Akaashi flushed, looking away quickly. “You’re the one who got me drunk.” 

“Akaashi! It was, like, two glasses! That won’t even get a baby drunk-” 

“I sure hope you haven’t tried.” 

“Well, not me, but Kuroo- oh yeah, he sent me some pics late last night!” He fumbled with his phone tossing it to Akaashi. “They fucking trashed the gym!” 

Akaashi swiped through the pictures, disinterest growing into disbelief with each. Tinsel everywhere, broken bulbs, a broken net, surprise, surprise. Two more people lying on the floor, Kuroo with scratches running across his cheek because apparently he’d asked Kenma to dance a second time. Sometime that night they’d wondered out of the gym, if pictures of Komi and Konoha leering in the girls’ changeroom and Kuroo with his hand deep in Akaashi’s locker were anything to go by. He turned off the screen before his blood pressure got high enough to kill him.

Yeah, Akaashi placed the phone back into Bokuto’s hand, he didn’t think he’d ever understand Christmas magic. But, again, he was sure that it wasn’t the magic of Christmas he’d felt last night. 

“Gotta get some breakfast! Lunch?” Bokuto leaped up and shed the remainder of the blankets, running off to the kitchen. “Oh yeah,” he popped his head back in, “you felt it last night, right? Christmas magic.” 

Akaashi nodded, returning the smile. “Yes, I believe I did.” 

Bokuto smirked triumphantly. “Told you everyone gets it eventually.” 

Akaashi couldn’t find a single reason to argue. He’d let him have it, just this once.


End file.
